


know that you're whole

by himbodad



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sharing Clothes, Spoilers through Ep 15, idk i wrote this as fast as i could after my second listen to the episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himbodad/pseuds/himbodad
Summary: I wrote this as fast as I could after the ep so the quality of this might be WAY off. i'm trying to push thru my endless writers block lmao. I DID NOT REREAD THIS, WE DIE LIKE REAL MEN (but if there's any issues feel free to correct me!)title comes from Midnight Radio from Hedwig and the Angry Inch, because I needed to listen to it to get the r*verdale cover of it out of my mind
Relationships: Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Comments: 9
Kudos: 83





	know that you're whole

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as fast as I could after the ep so the quality of this might be WAY off. i'm trying to push thru my endless writers block lmao. I DID NOT REREAD THIS, WE DIE LIKE REAL MEN (but if there's any issues feel free to correct me!)
> 
> title comes from Midnight Radio from Hedwig and the Angry Inch, because I needed to listen to it to get the r*verdale cover of it out of my mind

Argo paces back and forth in front of the centaur’s medical tent, anxiously awaiting for any news of Fitzroy’s condition. He had helped his friend into the tent and had expected to be allowed to remain there, but as the healer said, his presence wasn’t needed. Fitzroy had, in a weak voice, asked him to wait outside. He wasn’t going to deny him that.

But now he’s making himself more nervous than before. Fitzroy is alive! For a while there, that was certainly not a guarantee. Argo should be relieved that he at least knows that. He isn’t. He doesn’t know where the Firbolg is, Althea is trying to call the local authorities and get them on the case of who cursed a student, and he doesn’t know any of the hero trio well enough to try and get them to listen to his concerns. Argonaut Keene is alone.

His hand brushes against the Larry the Lime book in his pocket. A smile graces his face. He had brought Fitzroy back. He didn’t know how, just that when it mattered most, he had. It doesn’t matter if he needs to be alone for a short while. He was strong enough to help his friend when he needed it most. That alone is more than he feels he’d accomplished in his entire first semester at Wiggenstaff’s. 

From inside the tent, he can just barely hear the healer asking their assistant to go fetch him. Argo pats down his clothing, trying to make it as presentable as possible. He always wants to look his best for Fitzroy. Even if the barbarian is so out of it right now that he will probably pay Argo’s clothing no mind. 

“Argonaut?” The healer’s assistant asks. Argo nods, and is led away from the medical tent and into the healer’s personal chambers. Internally, he questions why the hell he’s not allowed to see Fitz. Externally, he smiles at the other man, ignoring the urge in his gut to not trust anyone he meets. “As you know, Fitzroy’s curse appears to have forced him into a series of flashbacks. The severity of them was… far beyond any that we’ve seen from curses of this nature before. Healer Meliea and I, we- well, we’re surprised that Fitzroy was able to survive it. Do you have any clue about how he was able to regain control over his subconscious?”

“Uh, to be honest, not really? I read him my trusty Larry the Lime book.”

“That would certainly not be enough.” The assistant grimaces. “A curse of this level would have needed something truly powerful to revive him. Was anything else done to try and fix him? I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a feeling that the curse would have required something bigger. Something with more emotional significance than a children’s book.”

After that, all that Argo had done was talk to him (in addition to threatening his cloaks). He’d spoken from the heart. He certainly felt emotional about the whole ordeal. But the emotional significance would’ve had to have been from Fitzroy’s end, and there’s no way that speech would have affected Fitzroy in such a way that he was resurrected. 

“I talked to him? I doubt that would’ve-”

“What did you say to him, Argonaut?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it was anything that powerful! I, eh, I just told him that I believe in him. That no matter what he may feel about himself, I know that he’s a good dude.” The healer’s assistant looks him up and down.

“There’s no way that was it. Alright. That was my only question. You may leave now, Mr. Keene.”

Argo wants to stay. He wants to beg the assistant for updates on Fitzroy’s condition. He wants to smack him across the face for invalidating his contributions to his friend’s wellbeing. But he needs this man on his side, so he leaves. 

He finds himself walking aimlessly through the forest. Passing rows of tents, sidestepping a centaur of the valley who looks at him with concern. Argo doesn’t pause until he reaches the tree that is the entire reason they’ve been forced into this mess. He carefully extends a foot past the magical tripwire. Nothing happens. That’s weird. Well, this entire day’s been weird, he thinks, I won’t deny myself an opportunity to observe this stupid tree up close and personal. Unlike the Firbolg, he does not notice anything out of the ordinary about it, including the missing apple. Mostly because he’s too tired to care.

Fitzroy had seemed exhausted when he’d finally woken up. Argo felt the same way. Trying to comfort his friend back into the land of the living is hard work, especially when you have a crowd watching you do so. He needs a break, damnit! Argo leans up against the tree trunk, sliding his feet down until he’s slumped up against it. He wraps both arms around himself, getting comfortable. His eyes fall shut slowly.

The warm sunlight that passes through the leaves of the tree feels wonderful on his weary face. His back aches against its sturdy bark, which he ignores. He’s so tired that he could sleep right here, right now. And he just might. They probably won’t let him in to see Fitzroy for the foreseeable future. He might as well be rested when he finally reunites with his friend.

This lovely sentiment is ruined by a sudden downpour of rain. Because of course, the day couldn’t have been bad enough on his own, now he had to be soaking wet too. The sun was literally just out! The sun is still out, as a matter of fact. The clouds surrounding it have simply decided that they wanted a piece of the spotlight as well.

“Shit.” Argo mutters under his breath. His clothing is dripping. While he is a water genasi, he doesn’t exactly want to spend the entire day in damp clothing. But a cursory glance inside his tent shows that the limited collection of clothes that he brought with him have disappeared. The only sign that they were ever there in the first place is a single sock hanging halfway out of the tent, through a large slit in the back of it. Okay, that was definitely not here this morning…

The Firbolg’s clothing is way too big for him, and Argo now doesn’t have any belts to try and cinch the loose cloth. He thinks about it, realizing the easiest way for him to get some dry clothes on that will actually fit. No. He can’t! Fitzroy said that he’d blow his head up if he so much as touched his outfits! 

Granted, Fitzroy hopefully didn’t mean it. He was still pretty loopy at that point. Plus, wouldn’t he rather Argo wear his clothes than walk around the camp completely nude? 

Argo tentatively removes an outfit from the bottom of Fitzroy’s suitcase, careful to not disrupt any of his other belongings. A pair of dark trousers, a grey white button up, and Fitzroy’s favorite red cloak make their way from his bag onto Argo’s body. There was no need for him to wear the cloak too. He was clothed enough with the pants and shirt, but there was a part of him that longed to feel like he was Fitzroy’s. The cloak smelled like him. Refined, with a twinge of summer air. Argo put it on, and he felt like he was returning home, albeit one he’d never been to before. 

He makes his way back towards the medical tent. Healer Meliea is waiting for him in front, their hands fidgeting.

“Argonaut! I was wondering where you’d gone to!”

“Um, there was a… rain incident.” Argo explains sheepishly. The healer has clearly noticed that his clothing is made up of Fitzroy’s clothing, which they choose to not mention.

“Fitzroy’s been asking for you. My assistant and I feel that he’s well enough on his way to recovery for him to be allowed visitors. I’ve sent my companion to try and fetch Master Firbolg. You can wait out here for him if you’d like, but based on how frequently the patient has asked for your presence, I’d suggest you head on in now.” Argo is not going to wait a second more to see his friend. He gives a courtesy wave to the healer before entering. 

Fitzroy is laying on a small bed, his head propped up by a mound of pillows. In one hand he holds a cold glass of water, the other is resting over his chest. A comforting weight, as opposed to the brute force of the curse. He sees Argo enter, and he grins with as much strength as he can muster up. And then he takes stock of Argo’s clothing.

“How’re ya feeling, Fitz?”

“I mean, I am feeling incredibly weak, but at least I’m not cursed anymore so… small miracles I suppose.” His response lacks his usual trademark tone. He’s too focused on the sight of Argo Keene in his clothing. He may have claimed that he would attack his friend with magic if he dared wear them, but in actually seeing this, he’s changed his mind. Fitzroy can’t pinpoint why it is that his heart is warmed by this image. 

Argo notices his look, and stutters his way through an apology. 

“I- there was all this rain out of nowhere, and somebody must’ve taken my clothes, ‘cause all of a sudden they were gone-”

“It’s perfectly okay, Argo. I don’t mind.” Argo scans the tent for a place to sit and finds none. He shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. “You can sit beside me on the bed. I mean, only if you’d like!”

Fitzroy’s voice is strained and barely above a whisper, but the panic at Argo potentially declining his offer is evident. Argo carefully takes a seat on the small bed. His side is pressed up against Fitzroy’s. Try as he might, he can’t separate himself from his friend. 

Neither of them say a word. Only a short while ago, Fitzroy was on the brink of death, and now he’s more concerned with the fact that he finds Argo wearing his clothes insanely attractive. Argo’s still caught up in the euphoria of Fitzroy being alive that he doesn’t notice the looks he’s being given.

“The healers asked me a lot of questions. Far too many, if you ask me.” Fitzroy says, breaking the silence. 

“Me too! ‘Cept I doubt they were asking you as in depth of questions when you’d just recovered from a curse. Speaking of all those questions, d’you know what it was that, in the end, actually brought you back?”

“I met the divine embodiment of Chaos, and they decided they were done with me.”

“Really?” Argo asks. He shifts around on the bed until he’s facing Fitzroy.

“Unfortunately so. Apparently they’re the one that gave me my magical capabilities. Suffice it to say that they were not pleased with the fact that I despise my magic. Sorry Snippers.” He addresses the celestial crab.

“I know it doesn’t really matter to you, Fitz, but I’d say that your magic has served you pretty well so far.”

“Thank you for that. It… sometimes I can’t understand that about myself. That I can be successful at something.” He pauses. “That’s what Chaos was using to manipulate me. The fact that I spend all of my time reminding myself that I’m a failure.”

“Hey! You’re not a failure, not in the slightest. You’ve accomplished so much in the time I’ve known you. Screw Chaos, screw those pricks at Claude Heights- you’re the best person I’ve met in my life. And according to local legend, I’ve met the queen.”

“There hasn’t been a queen around here in centuries!” Fitzroy laughs. “You know, I couldn’t hear you when I was in my little trance. But I could feel you, I swear it. You were comforting me. I don’t know what in the blazes you were doing for most of it, but it sure as shit worked. The only part I really latched on to was towards the end. This is the only time you’re allowed to wear that cloak, by the way.”

“Alright! I won’t wear your clothes ever again… unless you want me to.” Argo winks. “I’d be fine with us, uh, switching too.” 

Fitzroy’s face goes red. Does Argo realize the double entendre that could be derived from that statement? (He does). 

“Enough of that, then. What exactly were you saying to me? If I’m being completely real with you here, Argo, whatever it was that you were rambling on and on about is probably the only thing that helped me to make it out of my own mind alive.”

“Oh- seriously! Cause, uh, I wasn’t so sure that it was working. I read you one of my Larry the Lime books for half of it, and then I sort of went… off book. Gave a long speech about all of the great things you’ve accomplished- ya know, my regular, every day kinda stuff.”

Argo shrugs sheepishly, refusing to meet his friend’s eyes. In response, Fitzroy leans in closer, his breath hot on Argo’s face. He places a tentative hand on Argo’s knee. 

“No one has ever done anything of the sort for me. You- you astound me sometimes, Argo. Even when I’m at the lowest of my lows, you find a way to bring me back up.”

“Gee, Fitz… I- thank you. It was really just spur of the moment, off the top of my head-”

Fitzroy quiets him with a kiss. After the day they’ve had, they deserve something as simple as this. Argonaut Keene and Fitzroy Maplecourt work well together. This moment comes to them as easy as a breath would be.

**Author's Note:**

> yes i ignored a lot of the canon ep here,,, sue me. i have far too many fic ideas for these boys to give each one of them the attention they deserve


End file.
